Six to the Tenth Power
by AntiConstant
Summary: Stairs: Smoke burns his lungs with fate as witness.
1. Cold

A.N: This is the beginning of a series of drabbles starring Zexion and Luxord. It might become a romance between the two but if it does, I'm hoping to make it a slow romance instead of rushing. If you have a problem with that… Too bad. Oh, the drabbles might not have anything to do with the one before them, while some build on the previous one and not all of them will be in order.

_Edit:_ Fixed a sentence. 4/2/07

**Cold  
****AntiConstant  
**_When they first met, Zexion was like ice. And then there was the gender confusion._

His second week as a member of Organization X was nearly over and he still hadn't met all of the members. All that was left was the elusive VI, who seemed to live up to his title, or at least the first half of it, so far. Cloaked Schemer. He had asked Demyx about him once but the satirist had admitted that he hadn't actually met VI either, though he did have a name to go with rank and title. Zexion. The name made him think of a male stripper and he said as much. Demyx's mouth had twitched into a half-grin and, jokingly, he proposed the nickname of 'Sexy Zexy' for their unknown superior. Now, nearly fifteen minutes later, they were sitting around in a lounge of sorts, bored out of their minds.

Luxord snickered as he shuffled his supped weapon. If this Zexion was anything like the other original five members, 'Sexy Zexy' would be a suitably embarrassing nickname. He was about to suggest calling VI this in retaliation for not showing his face sooner when the door on the west wall opened. The two Nobodies turned, expecting it to be Axel but instead it was a short, pale faced individual that neither had seen before. The teen's one visible eye swiped across the room, taking in the scene before him. Or maybe it was her, Luxord really couldn't tell.

"IX, Melodious Nocturne and… X, Gambler of Fate." The voice that slipped through those lips was cold, low and almost hypnotic… and did nothing to help solve the gender issue. Demyx blinked twice in a rapid fashion then spoke,

"Yeah, that's us. I'm Demyx," he grinned as if he was a rock star – obviously he thought the person before them was a girl – before he pointed at the platinum blond across from him, "and that's Luxord. But who're you?"

"…VI…"

_Oh bloody hell._ Luxord cut in before he could get in another word. "The Cloaked Schemer." Suddenly, the 'Sexy Zexy' joke wasn't funny anymore, not when the teen held himself as if he knew what his name made people think of and, if they didn't, how to bring them to that conclusion without even lifting a finger. His eye flicked over to meet his, eyebrow arching in a near perfect picture of elegance. It would have been the picture of elegance if it wasn't for the amount of sensuality that seemed to linger behind the movement. He wondered if the other even realized it…

The pale ube-haired youth turned and took a step out of the room before making a half-turn to face him again. There was a dark coldness that hadn't been there before on his face. The two still sitting in the room felt a heavy pressure on their shoulders that they both knew was in their heads, but that didn't stop them from stiffening.

"I would suggest refraining from calling me that deplorable nickname unless you feel the need to be in agony." Neither of them said anything until they were sure that Zexion was out of ear shot. Demyx broke the silence first by muttering,

"I think Vexen and Zexion got their elements mixed up…"

Luxord couldn't agree more.

* * *

The two blonds, one platinum and one dark, glanced at each other over the tops of the cards in their hands. The platinum haired one had been winning so far but the other was determined to take the lead and win. A pale eyebrow rose mockingly and in turn, ocean blue eyes narrowed sharply. Silence reigned only to be broken by the younger of the two players.

"Do you have any threes?" Luxord smirked and leaned back into the overly plush chair he had settled in.

"Hmm… Go fish."

"Damn it!" Demyx snatched a card off the top of the pile between them. He glanced at it and scowled darkly, then switched his attention to the man before him with a razor-sharp glare. The card, a queen, was stashed into his hand.

"So then," he began. "Demyx, my dear friend… Do you have any threes?" The answer was a scream of rage promising pain. Luxord laughed the threats off easily while silently demanding for his opponent to hand over the cards with a quick movement of his hand. IX glared daggers. He smiled charmingly. Ocean eyes narrowed again and lips were pulled back to bare gleaming teeth.

It was on.

* * *

Zexion walked into the room just as a pillar of water shattered the coffee table as it smashed against the ceiling. His visible eyebrow rose slightly as his lips pulled into a smirk. All movement stopped. The water wielder stared heavily as he smacked into one of his clones, causing it to lose its shape and soak his front. Luxord froze half-way through the process of throwing one of his cards. A snicker echoed through the room, twisting around the occupants' ears and pulling them in. VI continued walking until he reached the middle of the room. His eyes flicked to Demyx and then to the door he had walked through,

"You both look ridiculous. Xigbar is looking for you, something about it being your turn to cook." The dark blond nodded and half-jogged out of the room, still caught up in the pull of his superior's aura. Luxord shifted out of the stance he had been caught in, smoothing done he front of his coat in an attempt to retain some form of dignity. The behavior he had engaged in with Demyx was unseemly and he didn't want this… moving sculpture worthy of pornography – though Luxord would never admit to such thoughts – to think he wasn't someone worth his time.

The other frowned lightly at him as he crossed his arms over his chest. His head tilted forwards with a sideways edge, dislodging his hair slightly but not enough for his other eye to become perceptible. The still visible eye narrowed and Luxord could almost feel the weight of impending catastrophic misfortune rest on his shoulders. He wondered, briefly, if there was any chance of him getting away before the other decided to release whatever he had planned.

"Evidently, the Superior seems to think our elements are somewhat comparable. As such I've been designated to help you… acquire a mastery of your element. Time, wasn't it?"


	2. Basic

**Basic  
****AntiConstant  
**_He tied to teach him the game and silently, Luxord added loyalty to the other to his list of basics._

He wondered if Xemnas hated him already and if he did, just what he had done to make it so. Luxord soon found out that when it came to instructing someone, regardless of the subject, VI was without a shred of mercy. It had been five hours since they had started and Zexion had shown no intention of ending the session. The younger might not have been very strong but he truly doubted that anyone could keep up with him for the time it seemed to require for the ube-haired youth to become fatigued.

"This is deplorable." Luxord glared at the schemer, only to be ignored as the other continued his hissed rant. "You don't have the necessary knowledge of your element in order to be able to control it efficiently. Instead, all throughout this session, you've relied on the physical aspect of your weapon. That would be all fine and good if your weapon could be used in such a manner but it can't! Not if you want to survive a confrontation with any enemy you'd likely be sent to deal with, let alone a group of Heartless." he snapped around on his heel and stalked towards the door. "Figure out possible ways to use time to your advantage by manipulating it. Then come find me."

Zexion flicked his wrist sharply and halfway between the door and where he had been at the time, a void-like 'door' sprang to life. He entered it at a brisk pace. The doorway closed behind him with no delay, leaving Luxord alone in the room.

VI had apparently been told to school him in the 'rules' of the Organization but the other seemed to be more at a loss in some of the key points then the newer of the two, leaving him to wonder if anyone had bothered to guide the youth. Then again the schemer was one of the originals; there was no way the other five senior members would leave one of their own to flounder. Would they?

Of course, it wasn't any of his business, although in a way, it was. After all, he reasoned, in order to teach him his teacher had to know what he was talking about. And if no one had taught him the rules of the game, how was he supposed to learn them? The answer was surprisingly obvious – he wasn't – and he wondered if Zexion realized it sometime during the impromptu Q&A session he had started or if he had already known.

He decided it didn't matter so much, as long as he was the only one that knew the rules had change again. He would revolutionize the Organization, starting with his 'teacher', in ways the senior members couldn't counter. After all, time was his element.

But first, he had some homework to do…

Maybe.


	3. Whisper

**Whisper  
****AntiConstant  
**_Zexion thinks he might be going insane._

He wanted out. He couldn't take it anymore! He couldn't… Except these weren't really his thoughts. The lights flicked on as he finished closing his door, forcing the shadows into corners to hide from the reach of the energy. His breath hitched as thin splatters of red appeared in his mind's eye, over lapping what he knew to be real. Books were replaced by gleaming trophies and a variety of trinkets. His book-laden desk became the desk of a high school student, covered in pictures of friends and half-written essays. Bare walls which weren't covered in shelves gained posters of singers, movie stars and various colleges. Another layer of splatters flicked across the walls and trophies.

Zexion took a step forward into the room which he knew was his, but for now wasn't. Suddenly, he was no longer in control of his body. He moved forwards, heading for the desk and when he got there, pulled open a drawer. At the bottom of it, under scraps of paper and pens, was a switchblade. Anticipation not his own flooded his system at the mere sight of the blade and only grew once the weapon was in his grasp.

A slight press to the middle of the handle and the blade flicked itself open. His breath was coming out in fast, shallow gasps now. He shifted the knife in his grip while he glanced at his wrist. Faintly, he heard a soft voice whisper in the back of his mind, egging him on. Where to cut, where to cut… An unmarked vein drew his eye –that wasn't his arm– and he nodded in satisfaction. The tip pressed into his wrist and just before skin broke, whatever held him let go.

The ube-haired youth staggered back, eyes wide. His hands shot up to clutch his head as his feet continued to move him away from the desk until his back collided with the door. Zexion slide down the length of the wood. He forced his eyes shut tightly and buried his face into his knees.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

There was something behind him. At least, he thought there was. Maybe he should talk to Vexen about this, to see if this was a part of his power. Somehow, he didn't think so. If these vision-like trances and the like were a result of his element, then he would have gain some sort of control over if ages ago. But he hadn't and now…

It was driving him insane, if he wasn't already, and there was _something behind him…_

Nerves mixed with what seemed to be a year's worth of near sleepless nights finally caught up with him and without thinking he twisted around on his heel, intent on showing whatever was behind him his opinion on the matter. His other foot kicked out and connected with the thing that had been following him. Which turned out to be the Gambler of Fate, who was now doubled over clutching his stomach and wheezing slightly. Joy.

He hadn't thought he kicked that hard. Oh well, after all there's a reason you don't stalk people who were short on sleep and overly paranoid. Hn, moron.

Zexion crossed his arms and waited for the other to recover. When he finally got over the strike to his abdomen, there wasn't any evidence that he had been hurt in the first place except a small frown which might have been there before but Zexion didn't really care. So he glared darkly at the taller Nobody and hissed,

"Why, pray tell, were you following me?" Because really, he did care… Not. "Well?" His mouth pulled itself into an involuntary sneer. Luxord's eyebrows rose in question but if he had anything to say about it, the other would never get his answer. A familiar snicker reached his ears. He redirected his glare and sneer to Axel. How had he managed not to notice him before?

"PMS again Zex?" He would die, VI vowed, a very bloody, painful death that would last _days_ and involve rusted spoons and a sprinkler system. Or Demyx, whichever one he got a hold of first. Zexion didn't need to deal with this right now, not when he had next to no patience for his books, let alone an annoying pyromaniac. Before he could start said death though, Luxord decided to play buffer.

"We or rather, I was headed to the kitchen to get something to eat. I caught sight of you and figured I would ask if you wanted anything to eat while I was down there. As for him," he waved his hand in IIX's general direction. "I have no idea." He smirked slightly, as if he knew what the shortest of the three wanted to do to the fire wielder. Said individual grinned in what the schemer decided could only be mania briefly before rounding a nearby corner.

Exhibit IIX, Axel's rapid cycling between states of almost depressed calmness and mania. If they couldn't feel then how could they possibly have the symptoms of an _emotional disorder_, and he hadn't had Rapid Cycle Mania before he became a Nobody so that possibility was out the window. Not to mention the state of depression that one Dusk that kept following him around always seemed to be in. The lesser Nobodies didn't retain their memories so there was no way the Dusk was applying what it remembered… Eh, whatever.

"One of these days," he muttered darkly, glaring at the corner. "I will kill him in his sleep and feed his innards to some carnivorous plant, all the while laughing in insanity. And I will enjoy every… Single… Minute… Of… It." That certainly got him a weird look from the blond next to him. Yes, because he wasn't allowed to have homicidal tendencies anymore.

* * *

At this very moment, he loved Luxord or rather, his cooking. Well, it was more like his baking but technicalities hardly mattered right now. Not when he had freshly baked sweets in front of him, waiting to be devoured and who was he to deny such a request? It seemed that X had been experimenting with his power a bit to see just what he could do and had somehow figured out that he could cut the waiting time for most baked goods in half. Now it was just a matter of translating that to the battle field… Eh, not his problem.

He ignored the other completely as he ate, focusing on the food and how to find a common strand between the various vision-trances. He seemed to be waiting for Zexion to tell him what cause the temporary insanity. Foolish gambler, the insanity was permanent… As far as he could tell anyway.

Foolish gambler… That sounded like the slogan for that one cereal… Ha, bunny ears.


	4. Stairs

A.N: I finally realized that it might be a good idea to change the summary _before_ I upload the drabble/vignette… And now I feel oh so stupid. Any how, I have a bit of a writer's block as far as the installment after this one goes, so while I might upload something, it most likely won't be drabble number five. Just thought you might have wanted to know…

**Stairs  
****AntiConstant  
**_Smoke burns his lungs with fate as witness._

Sometimes, he hated the people he worked with. Alright, so that was the understatement of the century. He hated his 'comrades' every minute of every day and he would continue to do so until he was dead and gone. Maybe. He might hate them in the afterlife just because he could. So he didn't have a heart to feel hate with, after all "…without a heart we are nothing, not even an empty shell." _Bullshit._ Pure unadulterated bullshit.

Emotions were caused by chemical reactions in the brain, environmental and internal stimuli, and physical response to the reactions and stimuli. They had brains and they had bodies, so they _could_ feel. The types of emotions might have been limited but they could feel all the same. The heart merely allowed them to place a sentimental value on those emotions.

Zexion sneered into the back of his hand as he listened to the Superior rant on about the plot his Heartless had set into motion and some brat's involvement. Superior… Yeah right. He closed his eyes to stop the urge to roll his eyes. At the moment, he had no desire to interact with any of the people around him and being caught mocking Xemnas would lead to that. The idiot paused in the middle of his speech and he snapped his visible eye open, alarm stirring in his blood. He glanced around the room, before stopping at the Superior with his eyebrow raised.

"And now, we wait." The silvered haired Nobody settled back into his throne, waving his hand in dismissal. Okay, so he missed the whole speech. Nice. Zexion drummed his fingers on his arm rest as he summoned a doorway. He slide off the set easily, ignoring IX's attempt to get his attention. He hovered just inside the doorway, just out of sight and waited to see if they would have fits over him leaving before their precious leader. He rolled his eyes as Saïx began his customary spiel about disrespect.

As if he cared.

* * *

After a short stop by his room, Zexion soon found himself sitting on the upper set of stairs in Twilight's View. It doesn't surprise him in the least, after all what he does when he's here is bad for his books and this area has enough ventilation so that the smell won't linger for very long. Everyone else is on the other side of the castle, so he didn't have to worry about being interrupted.

He sighed heavily as he leaned against the wall. His head was pounding and the shear amount of tension in his shoulders and neck weren't helping. A quick search of his pockets reviled a small lighter and a pack of clove cigarettes. He didn't remember where he picked up the habit which should have alarmed him, but by the time he put one of the small sticks between his lips and lit it, he couldn't bring himself to care.

A deep breath pulled the flavored smoke into his respiratory system. Zexion held his breath, letting the pale smoke twist and curl onto itself while it stained the lining of his lungs. He held that single breath for as long as possible, letting the nicotine sink into his system and eat way at the tension before pulling the cigarette from his mouth. The smoke left his system in the form of another heavy sigh.

Zexion took his time savoring the first cigarette before starting on the second. Just as the small lighter flicked to life a doorway opened on the lower landing. He scowled as he capped the lighter then started sliding his unlit cigarette back into the small pack.

"Hey, you don't have to…" His non-visible eye twitched as X trailed off. "Huh. You didn't strike me as the type to smoke VI, being as you never touch anything else unhealthy." The blond smirked down at him.

"I hardly care about the potential ill affects this habit will cause. After all, we don't exist so why should I worry about something that, supposedly, only affects Somebodies?" He toyed with the pack in his hand as he said this, making sure he seemed suitably distracted by it as he watched Luxord sprawl out across from him. It didn't seem that the other planned on leaving anytime soon and he refused to go somewhere else as he was here first so he would merely make the other leave. Petty yes, but at the moment he didn't care. The other pulled out a deck of cards. They didn't look like the deck he used as a weapon…

"Care for a round of poker, Zexion?"

"No. Now leave."

"Why?"

"Because I want to give myself lung cancer in peace, now remove yourself from my presence." X paused the shuffling of the deck briefly before starting again. There was a small, almost knowing smile on the other's face that for whatever reason, made Zexion want to hit him hard enough for him to lose balance and go toppling down the stairs. Just as quickly as the impulse came, a cigarette was between his lips and lit.

He really hated these people.

* * *

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, Luxord shuffling his deck systematically before dealing it out into a game of solitaire and Zexion nursing cigarette after cigarette until he couldn't feel a single drop of tension.


End file.
